Criminal
by UnfathomableFandoms
Summary: Six years of thieving to survive is a lot for a kid. Sadly, thieves aren't the worst scum in the Galaxy.
1. Chapter 1

**(As always, my amazing friend and beta RadCat deserves credit for editing this)**

This merchant was smarter than the others. Or maybe Ezra was getting rusty. Either way, he'd been caught stealing this time and he was on the run.

The chubby Sullastan yelled in a language Ezra didn't understand, shaking his fist at Ezra as Stormtroopers mounted speeders.

Ezra hastily shoved the credits and meal packs in his pack, dodging the stun bolts whizzing past his head. One singed his neck and he smelled singed hair.

 _Come on, don't fail me now._ Ezra willed the odd ringing to come back-it had saved his arse plenty of times already. He took a hairpin turn around another stall, the compass in his head spinning. The alley he had slept in last night would be to the west, but it would be harder for the speeders to give chase in the long grass- the one place his stunted growth gave him benefit.

But speederbikes were fast, and he couldn't run for long. He could hear them swinging around the turn he had just taken.

He couldn't outrun him, but hopefully he could outfox them.

He pushed through a crowd of Rodians chatting in their foreign tongue, ignoring their aggravated exclamations. He heard them scream and scatter as the stormtroopers blazed around the corner.

Ezra willed his scrawny legs to _jump,_ launching up to grab a clothesline. It swayed under his weight, and his arms jerked in their sockets, pain like a fire flaring up in his joints.

He looked down below him. Ten feet below, the speeders raced around the corner. "He's up there! Get him!"

The Imperials didn't seem to appreciate that he hadn't eaten for two days. Clearly, a scrawny thirteen year old was of utmost importance. Their blaster fire burned sizzling trails through the air.

The roof was only a few feet away. Ezra tried to move his hands, to shimmy down the line and climb up to the roof. His feet grazed the edge of the roof.

The clothesline snapped, and it rebounded around his left leg like a whip. He couldn't hold on to the ledge. Terror and shame swam in his gut as the cord tightened around his ankle and sent him swinging like a trapped animal, attached to the roof across from the one that would have given him a swift getaway and enough food to keep him going for a week.

The Troopers halted their fire, gazing up at him behind their helmets and chuckling. "Well boys, we caught ourselves a lothrat!" One exclaimed.

Ezra wasn't impressed by his sense of humor, but he wasn't in a position to taunt them. His ankle felt like it was being cut through with a soldering iron.

One Trooper stepped forward until he was helmet-to- upside down face with Ezra. "You are under arrest for thievery. We'll be taking what you stole back to its rightful owner and you'll be sent off to the cell blocks. For your sake I hope your parents bail you out."

His parents were good people. They would love him despite his flaws, right?

But the good people always die.

If they were still alive he wouldn't be in this situation anyway.

Ezra didn't feel like being a good person. In this age, thieves were hardly the worst of the monsters anyway. He spat on the trooper's immaculate shoes. "You're lower than any thief."

"Wha- You have the _right_ to remain silent!"

Silence was a right? His parents told him the opposite.

"Democracy!" Ezra screeched.

Then Ezra hauled himself up with burning abdominal muscles. The ringing was back, and he swung himself onto the roof with unnatural grace. _Just in time._ He scooted on his but as far away from the ledge as the wire on his leg would allow. The troopers were still whining about "rights" that were really the opposite, as far as he was concerned.

The leash on his leg bit down into his torn clothes. Blood had soaked through his under layer and was staining his orange pants.

Ezra hissed through his teeth, examining the wound and gently prying away the ripped fabric, gingerly prodding his sprained ankle and inflamed flesh.

He checked his pack. The stolen credits and food were still in there. He dumped the contents out. Lock picks, wires, a canteen of water…

Ezra took a drink, swishing the liquid around his dry mouth. It cleared his head, as if washing away some of the pain and head rush from hanging upside down. He set the canteen aside. He would need the rest of it to clean the wound or he'd be dead in a week.

Ezra examined a thin knife he'd swiped from a merchant a few weeks ago. It should be sharp enough to cut through the wire.

Ezra took a deep breath, blocking out the shouts of, "Face the law, thief!" from below.

Ezra peeled the wire away from the sticky, bloody skin. It dug deeper into his calf, but relief flooded in where it had been garroting his shin. He slipped the knife between his prone flesh and the cord. He started sawing through the thick metal cable, each movement making the wire twist through his skin. Black spots danced in his vision.

An agonizing minute later, the cable snapped and he took a deep breath, taking a few moments to calm down before tearing away the rest of the dirty fabric and trickling the water into the raw red wound. The water turned pink and trickled down the gutter in the roof, a gory sight. Ezra hoped it rained down directly onto those kriffing Imps.

Ezra examined the clean wound. A deep channel had been cut into his flesh, and Ezra could feel the bone directly beneath when he touched it. His ankle was definitely sprained and he would need support-and bandages if he ever wanted to walk again.

Ezra tore off strips of fabric from his right pant leg, soaking them in the rest of the water to clean them and ringing them out until they were dry. He wrapped the fabric around his ankle, using a spare wrench to secure the tourniquet. It would have to do until he could rest and find something better to treat his wounds. If he left it on too long, he would lose the leg- but he didn't have access to anyone who could do it professionally and give him one of those fancy expensive cyborg prosthetics. If he couldn't treat it properly, he would die.

First he had to get down and get away from the troopers. If they gave chase, he wouldn't be able to run- he doubted he could even walk. Ezra scooted to the opposite edge of the roof. Below, there was a small patch of grass with a neat little picnic table, no Imps, and a _speeder._ This must have been someone's house, someone with a family…

But it was also someone that had a handy speeder bike and probably proper bandages. _I'll give it back,_ he swore to himself.

Ezra packed up his things and glanced down at the yard, thirteen feet below. Usually, he could make the jump just fine, but with an injured ankle he doubted the jump would be neat- but he couldn't climb either. The wall was sheer concrete, without any ledges to use as a handhold. Ezra stood up shakily, gathering his equilibrium and standing on one foot. He kept his injured foot cocked, bending his knee and summoning the odd power that had saved him today already.

The landing would hurt, but he would rather leave with a bruised butt that stay on the roof to rot.

Ezra jumped, tucking his knees and wrapping his skinny arms around them.

He landed on a sore bottom on the grass, rolling to a kneel. His ankle screamed in pain, but he was okay.

Ezra hopped over to the lock, nearly keeling over onto his side as he searched in his bag for his lock pick. He braced one hand against the wall, sticking out his tongue in concentration as he picked the lock.

The door opened and Ezra stared straight down a blaster barrel.


	2. Chapter 2

**(This took longer than it should have. My beta's computer program she uses for editing crashed, but she still edited it for me)**

His day couldn't get any worse. Ezra swallowed hard on the lump in his throat.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my house?" demanded the gunner.

Ezra forced himself to peel his eyes away from the blaster barrel aimed directly at his face. The woman held the gun as steady as her stern gray eyes. Blazing red hair framed her plain face, pulled back in a messy braid.

Ezra lifted his arms in surrender, "Don't shoot. _Please."_ he grit out between his teeth. "I'm injured."

She hesitated, and then lowered the blaster as she scrutinized him, the steel in her eyes faded when the makeshift bandage caught her eye. The blaster dropped down to her side now, and Ezra let his arms fall down in relief.

"You could have knocked, you know." she chided, inspecting the bandage from afar. "What happened?"

Ezra's words caught in his throat. If he told her he was stealing he would be kicked out to face the Troopers again.

"Be honest," She said firmly and suddenly wrenched him onto his good foot and guided him to sit down on a divan. He closed his eyes, tension melting from his shoulders and a little of the pain fading away as he lifted the weight off his ankle.

"I… needed some food."

She looked him in the eye. "You stole it, didn't you?"

Ezra winced. He didn't like to be reminded that he was a criminal. What would his parents say? "I wouldn't have done it if I didn't need to."

"That doesn't matter. In this Galaxy the only criminals are the ones enforcing the law. Liberty was stolen, democracy was murdered. Living should not be a crime."

Ezra smiled rueley. "Yeah…I guess you're right." He rubbed his neck nervously. What was this lady playing at?

"You are the judge, the jury and the convicted. Tell me, do you think what you did was wrong?" She stood. "Think about it." Then she walked away.

Ezra pursed his lips. His parents had always told him stealing was wrong…

But they also taught him that ethics trumped law. If those laws were corrupt, going against them would be the right thing to do…right?

But if he had killed someone, good reason behind it wouldn't change the fact that he did it.

Ezra threw his hands up in defeat. Nothing made sense anymore. Heroes were villains, and villains were heroes. Nothing was yes or no anymore, and everything was confusing. His head throbbed.

"I'm guessing you don't have an answer for me?" The woman sat down across from him, setting bandages and rubbing alcohol on the coffee table.

Ezra shook his head.

The woman laughed. "Well, here's my answer for you. Doing something bad does not change the fact that you are human, but being human doesn't change the fact that you did it." She reached forward, carefully twisting the wrench around to loosen the bandage. The fabric rubbed against his wound like steel wool. Ezra squeezed his eyes tight, fisting his hands and concentrating on what she had said.

 _Doing something bad does not change the fact that you are human, but being human doesn't change the fact that you did it._

What in the blazing skies did that mean? His head was starting to hurt almost as much as his ankle. Why did this stranger want him to think so hard?

"Oww! Watch it! And what does that mean anyway?"

She laid a strong hand on his chest, forcing him to sit back. "Everyone does bad things. That doesn't mean they aren't capable of good. But some people…they become their monstrous deeds until the goodness rots away." She poured alcohol onto a clean rag. "Don't move. This is gonna sting."

She dabbed the cloth onto his wound and Ezra felt the pain sharpen and stretch up his leg. The alcohol sizzled like hot coals. Ezra moaned and clenched his teeth.

"I told you it would sting! Now hold still!" She pushed him back, until he was lying down against the cushions, pinning his thigh down with her hand. "Not gonna lie to you kid, this is gonna hurt like hell. But If I don't do this, it'll be worse later."

She trickled the antiseptic directly into the wound. Crisp, lancing pain blazed through the mutilated flesh. Ezra moaned, hissing through his teeth. He wriggled, bucking his hips. He couldn't stay still. His body was telling him to fight what was hurting him and his mind was too sluggish with pain to respond. He almost bit his own tongue off.

"Okay kid, I'm done. You can quit your crying." Ezra opened his eyes. The woman was smiling with a bemused expression on her face, reaching for the bandages. She started wrapping them around his ankle. The pain had subsided to a dull ache, and the bindings felt surprisingly light on the raw flesh. She snipped the bandages and tucked them in with surgical tape.

"Can't do much about the sprained ankle, but-"

Ezra's gut dropped to his feet. The Troopers were back, knocking on the front door. "Don't worry Kid, I'm not gonna hand you over. " She hauled him up; guiding him to a closet in the hallway despite his protests- he could walk, really!

"Stay in here until I tell you to come out." She shoved him in with the clean linens and shut the door.

Ezra leaned his ear against the closed door.

" _\- seen a kid around here?"_

The woman's voice came through loud and clear. _"I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't seen anyone fitting that description and no one has come into my house."_ She was a good liar, Ezra would give her that. But she could still hand him over- she was a stranger who had held a gun to his face. Ezra didn't trust her one hundred percent.

" _Madam, harboring a fugitive is against the law. We need to search your house."_ Ezra's heart started to pound. What now? He was injured and a sitting duck.

Ezra shoved a folded sheet out of his face. The closet smelled sweetly of laundry detergent- his favorite smell as a child. Ezra closed his eyes, relaxing for a second. Laundry day had always been his favorite. He used to help his mother fold the sheets and make fortresses with her and play hide and seek…

Ezra grabbed one of the sheets. _I'm hiding, come and get me!_ Ezra grinned. For once, the bittersweet memories did him good. Ezra set to work stacking towels and sheets and washcloths to make a barrier between him and the door, shuffling around as quietly and swiftly as possible. Hopefully this would look natural enough for them to move on.

Ezra studied his fortress in the dim light, silently chuckling to himself. Ezra backed in the corner, covering himself with spare sheets just in case. He settled down to wait, half kiddish excitement and half fear churning his gut- this was just an intense game of hide and seek. Sort of. If he was found, he'd be shipped off to jail.

" _-boy was injured, how could he have gotten down from the roof?"_ The Trooper's voice and footsteps drifted closer. Ezra shifted in his hot, stuffy blankets to make sure they covered him completely. His ankle twisted painfully, and Ezra bit his tongue. If he made a noise, he'd be done for. He held his breath, suffering silently in the tiny closet, covered in hot blankets. The pain slowly eased away to a dull ache.

The door opened. Ezra wondered how they couldn't hear his pounding heart. Blankets were moved aside. _"Nothing in here, let's go out back."_ The footsteps faded away. Ezra could breathe again, but he didn't dare take off the blankets yet.

The woman's fake-panicked voice, though muffled, came through. _"Had….another…it's gone!"_ Ezra grinned to himself. As long as she kept up the innocent act, he could be free.

Ezra heard the footsteps returning. _"I still don't understand how he could have made the jump. Kid looked like a trapped Lothwolf."_

Another Trooper answered. _"Did you see the way he hauled himself up? Kid's got reflexes like a Jedi. Besides, he got away, but that was a nasty wound. I almost pity him; he'll be dead soon."_

Jedi reflexes? Ha! The Jedi were wiped out when freedom died. There was no possible way…

Unless the ringing wasn't just some weird seventh sense. Sometimes he'd heard his parents whispering, about his safety, about…

Ezra shook his head. He was going mad.

" _Sorry for bothering you madam. We will report the stolen speeder to our superiors. If He shows up, report it immediately. But I doubt he'll be back or able to cause you any trouble any time soon."_

" _Thank you, officers." the woman answered curtly. "I will report any suspicious activity. Thank you for being so_ through _."  
_ Ezra heard the door shut. He shook off the blankets, digging himself out of his epic sheet fortress.

She opened the door, and Ezra burst out of a pile of unfolded sheets.

"Clever." she told him flatly, putting out a hand to help him upright again. "And here I thought I would have to shoot them for a second there." She picked up a fancy silk-embroidered tablecloth with a heavy sigh. "But now I have to re-fold everything."

"Sorry for the inconvenience." Ezra quipped. His voice dripped with sarcasm, but part of him was sincere. He had wasted this poor woman's time, and she'd lied like a street player straight to the troopers' faces. All he'd done was cause her trouble so any minute now she would surely give him the boot, now that the coast and her conscious was clear of course. "I'll be on my way now. You don't think I could _steal_ your second speeder?" he asked in a light tone, making his way along the wall towards the door.

She folded the tablecloth and placed it on the shelf. "Whoah, kid!" She placed a hand on his chest, stopping him from his escape. "I'm not gonna let you run off yet. You're still injured and you need food and sleep."

Ezra shook free of the gentle hands, feeling conflicted. He was grateful, but also insulted. "I have the mealpacks. I can look after myself."

She shook her head. "I'm not stupid. You'll need those later, when you're healing and you can't… _displace_ more food for yourself. You..don't have a home to get back to, do you?" She studied Ezra, the slightly too large and messy jumpsuit, the long dirty hair. Ezra crossed his arms. He didn't like it when people looked at him. He shook his head.

She frowned. Ezra could see the pity bleeding off of her. "You can stay here for the night. I'm sure my son will enjoy the company when he gets home from the academy."

Ezra was touched, but his tone was surprised. "Really?" he hadn't slept inside a real house for years.

She nodded, her flat expression thankfully void of pity. "Just don't steal anything." she commanded, leading him back towards the hallway.

Ezra smirked, trying to cover up the tight feeling in his chest with overconfidence. "No promises. Can I take a nap now?"

"Take a left. You can sleep in my son's bed. Hopefully he cleaned his room for once"

Ezra limped down the hallway and nearly tripped over the toys strewn on the floor. Clearly, he had not cleaned his room. Ezra hissed, jumping on one foot as his wounded ankle throbbed. How were those toys so painful? Had he just forgotten? He hadn't had toys for six years.

Ezra frowned. Why did everything have to be ruined for him?

Ezra collapsed on the messy bed and he was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

* * *

Ezra woke up to a pair of big gray eyes and a mop of auburn hair.

"Who are you? Why are you in my room?"

Ezra sat up, instantly feeling dizzy. His ankle throbbed and all he wanted to do was go back to sleep. Or eat. His stomach gave a loud painful rumble and Ezra put a hand over his belly.

"I'm Dev. Who are you?" The kid offered a little hand. He couldn't be more than eight- Ezra envied the bright smile on his face. Dev didn't know how lucky he was to have a family.

Ezra forced a smile. "I'm Ezra." He gripped the small hand in his own. He braced a hand on the bedpost and forced himself to stand.

"Momma says it's dinnertime."

Ezra's stomach growled. "Lead the way, Dev."


	3. Chapter 3

**(I LIVE! This is for me most amazing beta, RadicalCat, who filled in all the holes in this story for me. The crystals were her idea.)**

* * *

Dinner was fantastic. Dev complained about the stew, but Ezra couldn't remember a time when he had anything other than stolen mealpacks or half-rotten fruit.

"Momma, why is Ezra here?" Dev stirred his spoon through the lukewarm stew- Ezra was tempted to ask if he could have it if Dev wouldn't eat it. He was starving, and the spicy meat stew was delicious.

"He was hurt and needed help. He'll be staying the night." The woman answered politely.

"What about his family?"

Ezra choked on his stew. The boy spun around and gave him an odd look.

The woman gave her son a gentle prod in the arm. "Do you remember how it felt when Audra Thomso kept asking questions about your dad?" she asked gently.

The air got quiet and Ezra looked to the boy in confusion, and he saw something growing in the boy's eyes. Sorrow? Grief? Whatever it was, the kid looked down into his lap quickly and nodded his chin limply against his small chest.

"Yes." he said quietly.

"It's alright to ask questions, just make sure you don't step on anyone's feelings." the woman told him, calmly waiting out the mood change.

Her words brought the kid back, and he boy lifted his eyes to glance first at his half eaten stew, and then carefully over to Ezra.

"My daddy is dead." he said firmly, "and I miss him very much."

Ezra was taken aback, by both the bluntness and the genuine look in the boys eyes. He didn't know what to say, but the boy ploughed on.

"He died a long time ago. And now I have a new dad who loves us. He works in the meens."

"The mines." she corrected gently, smiling very softly at one corner.

"The mines." Dev continued, nodding. His wide eyes bored into Ezra. He suddenly felt uncomfortable and he didn't know what to say. What do you say to a child who is suffering? Ezra didn't know. Most people had turned their backs on him.

"I hope you find a new dad too." Dev told him firmly, and gave him a very serious nod.

Ezra sat, still too surprised by the unload of information from the boy. But the kid and his mother turned back to their stew, unfazed.

Ezra swallowed his mouthful down, trying not to slurp. He didn't really know what to say, but he still felt like he should say something-

"Thanks kid." he found himself saying. Dev looked up again, and smiled broadly. "I'll keep an eye out, I guess."

"Good!" the boy nodded, now happily swinging his legs under his chair. "All boys need daddy's to teach them. Rorck is teaching me to diff-en-chi-ate the rocks!"

"Differentiate." his mother corrected, "And Yes. You're learning lots about crystals, aren't you?"

His eyes got comically big and he rounded on Ezra with so much enthusiasm Ezra almost choked on his dinner .Again. "There are so many crystals on Lothal! Have you seen them? I have five!"

Ezra choked his food down, now trying not to snort his food up the wrong pipe. "N-No. I've seen the mines though. They have some big extractors down there." He tried to keep his tone bright, and not to think about the conditions most of the workers dealt with down there. Whatever the Empire was draining out of the center of Lothal was certainly important. Most people believed it was starship fuel for the new TIES, but there were rumors of something more sinister. "I don't think I've ever seen a crystal." Ezra continued. "Maybe you can show me after dinner?" he asked, more for conversation's sake.

Dev was almost bouncing in his seat, and refused to eat more than a few more mouthfuls until Ezra was done.

The woman told Ezra to go and keep the boy entertained until she was done cleaning up. Ezra followed the kid back down the hall, where the boy excitably pulled a small box from under his bed and began babbling enthusiastically as he showed off each rock inside.

There was only a handful, and as far as Ezra could tell- they were all just rocks. Three were just different shapes and shades of gray, but Dev insisted they were all _very_ different and very special. He handled each one with care, replacing them in the box before pulling out another.  
The other two were smaller, and Ezra could see through them if he held them up to the light. One was a clouded white, and the other a dark glassy black with a thin uneven vein of bright green running down the center.

Ezra held this one for a long time, while Dev loudly babbled about how his stepfather Rorck had brought it home for his birthday the year before. Ezra only half listened, turning the crystal this way and that, inspecting the green vein running through it from every angle. It seemed to almost glow- but that was just the light obviously. His neck hair stood on end, and he was struck with the idea that he wanted to pocket the crystal- but the thought was gone in a second and Ezra quickly and carefully gave the boy back his precious rock.

"OK boys, Bath-time." said the woman, appearing in the doorway.

Dev let out a guttural moan in protest. "But I had one this morning!" Ezra almost laughed, he used to hate baths too.

She raised an eyebrow, "Not for you, my sweet son." she turned and looked pointedly at Ezra. "Come on. I'm not letting you sleep in the clean sheets like that. Last time was an exception."

"W-what?" Ezra demanded, flabbergasted.

"Yes." he said impatiently, and beckoned him to follow. "Now come on."

"I think I'm a little too old for you to help me put the shampoo in my hair."

She snorted as she opened the door.

True to her word, a real bath was waiting for him. He watched the steam rising off the water, a little amazed this family could afford such luxury. "The only towels you _didn't_ unfold are on the counter. I have some clothes for you when you're done." With that she closed the door.

Ezra sighed and eased into the bubbly water, relaxing tight muscles he didn't even know he had. He sat to one side, bracing his ankle- which was wrapped in a plastic wrapping so it wouldn't get wet- on the side of the tub.

Months of dirt flushed out of his pores. He pulled the plug and let new water flush away the old. Ezra watched the gray water disappear; replaced with clear, refreshing _hot_ water.

This was a far cry from the quick scrubs he got out the back of the washer factory. Here he had real soap, real true steam! This... this was pure luxury.

The moment of silent luxury gave him time to think.

" _You are the judge, jury and convicted. Tell me, do you think what you did was wrong?"_

Ezra ran a hand through his wet, tangled hair. She was right. No one should tell him whether he did the wrong or the right thing- it only matters if you believe it yourself. That is when redemption or damnation came.

So what _did_ he believe?

He had stolen, but he had never wanted to in the first place. He didn't ask to be made a petty criminal, but corruption ran through the veins of the Empire and infected those living under it. He was not stealing out of spite, despite how funny it was when the Troopers ran after him. He stole to eat and to survive.

Living was not a crime. Stealing was a crime, but he did not do it for money, he didn't do it for criminal reasons.

Ezra had done a crime. Ezra was not criminal. He was still human. He had done wrong, but he could still be right.

The guilt he had been holding flushed down the drain like gray water, replaced with clarity and peace.

Ezra rolled his shoulders and laughed, garbled underneath the water. He blinked the water out of his eyelashes. He felt lighter and cleaner than he had for years.

He was finally clean.

* * *

He'd rested late into the next morning, only really finding sleep after Dev had. The kid sure has a mouth on him, Ezra mused, and a million questions to boot.

When he'd woken, Ezra had tested his ankle, and found he could grit though the pain of the weight on his foot, unlike the day before when the pain was still too sharp. The thick bandages helped brace and support the joint, and Ezra absently thought he might be able to find an old armor brace in the scrap yards in a few days, when could stand for longer than a few seconds at a time.

It was time to get going. He could feel it.

It was warm and safe here, and this family was no friends to the Imps. Ezra could get used to this.

And that was why Ezra had to leave, as quickly as possible, and with as little as fuss as he could manage.

* * *

The woman, his makeshift nurse and protector, scowled when he told her he intended to leave that day.

She was sat at the table with a cup of tea, and one waiting for him. Dev had already been sent off to school, much to his displeasure when he had a guest staying in his home.  
She frowned unhappily at him over the rim of his cup.

"It's foolish to leave now. You're still injured."

Ezra rolled his ankle, only wincing a little, and showing off the extra inch of mobility he's gained in the night.

"It's foolish to stay. Eventually the troopers will come back for a report. My ankle's alright now. I'll keep off it for a few days." he shrugged, and was sure to put a sour, uncouth twang on his words. "Besides, you don't need a _lothrat_ like me hanging around, eatin' all your food and teaching Dev all the bad words I know. I'd just be a bad influence."

His threat was empty. And they both knew it.

She looked away though, into her tea and frowning at it. After a moment, she spoke.  
"Dev will be sorry to see you go," she said quietly. "He doesn't have a lot of friends."

Ezra knew this was her just using the kid as an excuse to manipulate him, to force him into staying. For Dev of course.

It was working, and Ezra felt his gut shift with shame, thinking about the smaller boy's smile slipping off his face, as he was told Ezra had left without so much as a goodbye.

"Well it's a good thing I'm not staying any longer." Ezra answered shortly, meeting her eyes evenly, but his throat threatened to tighten off his words. "I wouldn't want him getting attached to some dirty _urchin_ like me."

She narrowed her glare a little, but then dipped her chin and nodded.

And that was the end of the argument.

Ezra was allowed to leave, but she refused to send him away unprepared.

Ezra packed the extra bandages and food she'd given him in his pack. It was stuffed to the gills with food, and medical supplies and few unused gadgets and tools she'd pulled out of an engineering box. She'd insisted on one more meal and a trip through the fresher again. But Ezra insisted it was time he got moving. She'd already cleaned his clothes for him and even changed his bandages.

"Gotta dodge those patrols." he told her, shrugging the backpack onto his shoulders. "I don't wanna get stuck here all night again."

The woman watched him in pensive silence.

Ezra glanced at her over his bulging backpack. Somehow, he knew exactly what she was going to say. "Don't say it."

"You don't have to leave yet. We have food, clean clothes-"

"My suit has all sorts of useful places to hide things."

"We have more of that stew. I know how much you liked it." She offered in a halfhearted attempt at humor, but her heart wasn't in it.

Ezra squeezed his eyes shut. Compassion hurt more than anything after he'd gone without it for so long. He'd started to feel like he didn't deserve it, and pushed it away- which only made him feel guilty.

You can get used to a certain kind of pain. It was the only thing Ezra knew, it was his lifeblood, what kept him going and fighting.

A home never lasted forever, and afterward it's a tainted memory.

"I prefer being alone." Ezra replied briskly, tested his weight on his ankle. Still sore, he wouldn't be able to walk more than a few feet. He'd _borrow_ the speeder.

She watched him roll the spliced ankle, and 'hmm'd' unhappily, pursing her lips. He was being stubborn. "Why? You're only trapped with yourself, nothing to-"

"Not if you're on the move. Besides, the loneliness…it's gotten sweet." Ezra bit his cheek. Why was he saying this?

"Like wine." She tutted. "But wine is dangerous in large amounts. Kid, you're hurting yourself. Silence is the loudest scream for help, and when you're alone you can't hear your own cries."

This woman was almost as stubborn as he was. He felt his facade slipping, and built it up tenfold. "You've helped enough and I'm grateful, but I need to be alone now. Dev chatted my ears off last night." Ezra recalled the kid's bright smile melting from his face. He saw something of himself in there.

But Dev let his screams be heard.

The woman said nothing now, just stood back, watching him through narrowed eyes. She saw right through him. Dev's lucky to have a mother like her... His thoughts, though fleeting, dusted at the image of a woman with long dark hair and bright blue eyes and a smile warmer than the summer sun-

Ezra shook his head sharply, dislodging the image. It was well past his time to be gone. The pain was the first sign. When the numbness faded, it was time to move.

He sighed, slipping his pack over his shoulders. "Well, I guess it's time for me to go. If you find anything missing-" Ezra grinned, but her flat expression did not change. He shrugged and looked away, "Like I said, no promises."

He almost expected her to try and stop him again, as he made his way along the wall. _She's probably excited to have the filthy lothrat out her house_ ; he mused, and let the idea give him the last push he needed to get out the door.

This wasn't his home. Ezra had no home. Or rather- all of Lothal was his home. He had the freedom to go anywhere he wanted, to do anything he liked. He was luckier than most kids his age- bound by rules or responsibilities. All Ezra had to worry about was his own wants and needs and whether or not he got caught snatching food at the markets again.

The thought made Ezra pause, right in the frame, and he half turned, glancing over his shoulder at the woman still nursing her tea. "I have an answer now." he said.

Her eyes sparkled, and there was hint of a smile at the corner of her pursed lips. She didn't need to ask what his answer was for. "And what is it?"

Ezra readjusted the straps of the backpack. "Most people would say what I did was wrong but…Like you said, living shouldn't be a crime."

She smiled. "Goodbye, Criminal." She said.

Ezra paused in the doorframe one more time. He had never gotten her name, and it felt wrong when the woman had been so kind. "What's your name?" Ezra asked.

She smiled. "Morgan."

Ezra nodded and stepped off the threshold, pulling the door shut behind him, firmly, and pretending like he hadn't heard her say " _hello, Ezra._ " as he mounted the speeder bike.

He'd return it sometime soon, when his ankle wasn't sliced anymore.

Maybe when no one else was around.


End file.
